Chapter 344: One of the Weak

How could a feast of the Ten Lesser Kings of Burial Soil be marred by an outsider's arrogance?

Long Xiang could not bear it.

Moreover, Jun Xiaoyao had already killed Long Kun, making him an enemy of the Corpse Dragon Clan.

At this moment, Long Xiang struck.

He knew Jun Xiaoyao's physical body was bizarre and immensely powerful—even Dragon flesh was nothing before him.

Thus, Long Xiang did not choose close combat, but instead unleashed the Corpse Dragon Clan's great divine art.

"Bone Divine Mountain!"

As Long Xiang spoke, a torrent of deadly dark energy rose from his body, mingling with dragon qi.

A spectral white bone dragon appeared, coiling in the void, transforming into a towering mountain of pale bone, radiating crushing weight as if capable of suppressing all things.

This was the Corpse Dragon Clan's Bone Path great divine art—its power was boundless, bearing the audacity to shatter mountains and rivers for ten thousand li, bearing down upon Jun Xiaoyao.

Seeing this, Jun Xiaoyao's expression remained calm; he pushed the Divine Elephant Subdue Hell Force to its peak, his surging blood qi roaring into the void, forming a golden divine elephant that suppressed the entire cosmos.

The golden divine elephant and the bone mountain crashed together violently in the void.

It was as if ten thousand great stars exploded—terrible magical energy waves ravaged all directions, and the entire Burial Soul Mountain trembled and roared!

In this ultimate collision, the bone mountain shattered outright.

Jun Xiaoyao summoned the Emperor's Seal with one hand and struck down—a single palm strike like an emperor descending, crushing all beneath his hand.

With a wet splat, Long Xiang was blasted away, his ribs cracking audibly under the impact.

Fortunately, Long Xiang was a Corpse Dragon, his body formidable; otherwise, he would have been instantly obliterated like the Eight-Armed Spider Demon prodigy.

Seeing Long Xiang crushed in a single blow, gasps rose in waves among the onlookers.

Everyone stared wide-eyed, unable to believe it.

Long Xiang was far stronger than the Fallen Feather Holy Son.

"Enough of your arrogance!"

The Blood Fiend Clan's Wang let out a cold roar and struck.

It was said this clan had evolved from a single drop of demonic blood, their origins terrifyingly mysterious.

The Blood Fiend Clan prodigy raised his hand, and a vast sea of blood surged forth.

This was the Blood Fiend Clan's innate great divine art: Burial-Consuming Blood Sea!

Jun Xiaoyao, seeing this, unleashed boundless divine flames from his body; with a gesture, multicolored flames erupted—Tuo She Ancient Emperor Flame.

Jun Xiaoyao had been reborn through the seed of Tuo She Ancient Emperor Flame, so he could control it at will.

"That is… Emperor Flame!"

The Blood Fiend Clan prodigy's face changed drastically.

For their clan, the most feared energies were thunder, fire, and other supremely yang forces.

In the Ancient Burial Soil, nearly all life was yin-cold in nature; very few beings controlled thunder or fire.

That was precisely why the Blood Fiend Clan could dominate a corner of the Ancient Burial Soil.

But now, the Emperor Flame Jun Xiaoyao summoned was the perfect antithesis to the Blood Fiend Clan.

Hiss!

Tuo She Ancient Emperor Flame clashed with the blood sea, hissing as white steam rose.

This blood sea, feared by all, posed no threat whatsoever to Jun Xiaoyao.

Jun Xiaoyao formed his fingers into a sword and slashed out the Killing Immortal Sword Art.

The Blood Fiend Clan prodigy barely dodged, but still took the blow—his arm flew off.

The Blood Fiend Clan prodigy, too, was driven back.

The third challenger among the Ten Lesser Kings had failed again!

"Is this the standard of the Ten Lesser Kings of Burial Soil? Truly disappointing, this Divine Son." Jun Xiaoyao shook his head slightly.

He had no desire to display such overwhelming dominance—it was boring.

Unfortunately, no one could force him to use even a few more moves.

To Jun Xiaoyao, this wasn't even warm-up.

The Burial Soil beings attending the feast wore expressions of profound humiliation.

Their revered Ten Lesser Kings, once lofty and untouchable, were now mocked by an outsider prodigy—they had lost all face.

The Ten Lesser Kings present all bore icy expressions.

Only Lang Huan showed no anger at Jun Xiaoyao's words.

Women, after all, worship strength.

The more Jun Xiaoyao displayed invincible might, the more Lang Huan became obsessed and entranced.

Even her beautiful eyes held unmistakable contempt for Mo Ling and the others.

She was ashamed to be grouped with Mo Ling and the rest, unwilling to be called one of the Ten Lesser Kings alongside them.

Seeing Lang Huan's gaze, Mo Ling exploded—his mind heated, and he could not help but strike.

Seeing Mo Ling attack, the Cultivation of Corpse Sect's prodigy also coldly barked: "Enough hesitation—strike together! Subdue him first!"

The Cultivation of Corpse Sect's prodigy struck as well.

As Mo Ling and the Cultivation of Corpse Sect prodigy moved, the remaining Ten Lesser Kings who had not yet acted all launched their attacks.

All pretense of honor was abandoned—subduing Jun Xiaoyao was now the only goal.

Even if they took turns one by one, none could defeat Jun Xiaoyao.

Their only remaining advantage was their numbers.

Though this would draw criticism, it was better than enduring Jun Xiaoyao's humiliation.

"One of the weak's delusions is believing that grouping together guarantees victory."

Watching the Ten Lesser Kings charge, Jun Xiaoyao's eyes held cold, condescending disdain.

If there were hundreds or thousands of Ten Lesser Kings-level prodigies, perhaps they might trouble Jun Xiaoyao.

But these few attacking together meant nothing to him.

"Demon Serpent Devours Heaven!"

Mo Ling unleashed his clan's divine art; behind him, black mist spread, revealing a half-phantom, devouring demon serpent.

With its mouth open, it seemed capable of swallowing an entire sky.

Jun Xiaoyao raised his hand and countered with the Devouring Spirit Technique; countless black swallowing vortices appeared, their devouring and transmuting power no weaker than Mo Ling's innate divine art.

At the same time, the Cultivation of Corpse Sect prodigy struck—his coffins opened, revealing an ancient corpse covered in black fur.

The ancient corpse radiated hardness; its physical body alone rivaled a Void God Realm expert.

This was precisely why he ranked among the Ten Lesser Kings.

His own cultivation was merely Minor Perfect Divine Flame—unremarkable—but with this ancient corpse, he could crush most prodigies.

The ancient corpse extended its hands, its ten fingernails like black spikes, slicing through the void as it slashed toward Jun Xiaoyao.

The other Ten Lesser Kings prodigies also struck.

Each unleashed their most formidable techniques.

This scene stunned everyone present.

The Ten Lesser Kings, lofty and supreme, each capable of sweeping aside entire regions.

Who had ever seen the Ten Lesser Kings unite to attack a single opponent?

It was unprecedented.

"Even if this Jun Clan prodigy falls, he won't be disgraced," remarked a Burial Soil being.

"True—even if he's subdued, his name will echo far and wide, for he was defeated only by the combined efforts of several Ten Lesser Kings."

Everyone present believed that even in defeat, Jun Xiaoyao would retain honor.

But what happened next was beyond anyone's imagination.

It could be said to have shattered their very understanding!